Dejavu
by Mythicalnightguard
Summary: When an unfortunate accident leaves one of the exhibits nothing but dust, his friends know they'll never see him again. But the Tablet has a little trick up its sleeve. Little do they know he's alive, living his life amongst the normal people. It's not the best kind of life; what with being dumped and left jobless, but his future, and past, might look up with his new job. No /.
1. Chapter 1

I have been informed by people that my story seems similar to another story. I think that story could be Ony You Know, byt Summermisteddragon, a freind of mine. She knows I'm writing this story and has given me the goahead.

Hope that clears this up.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _"You know what I want, more than anything in the world?"_

 _"A brain?"_

 _The cowboy pushed his friend playfully before looking out the window again. "Naw, I want one of them little acorn helmets..."_

"Acorn helmets?"

 _"Yeah. Yah know, the ones you made for your men last April, April Fools..."_

 _"Oh those. Funny, I thought you would want something a bit more...extreme..."_

 _"No. That was some mighty fine craftin' ya did. I think one of those would be perfect."_

 _The Roman had shrugged. "If that is what you wish..."_

And now, thanks to his "fine craftsmanship," the Roman general Octavius was trekking through the snow in search of the perfect acorn. In the warmer months it was easy to find the brown tree seeds, as they were always scattered around the bushes in the landscaping. But in the cold winter months such a thing was hard to find. The squirrels had ran off with most of them; Octavius knew this as he spent most of his free time observing the creatures and their habits. He hoped to train them one day.

As he walked on, he kicked at the frozen ground, hoping to hear the hollow bump of a hole beneath him. It would surely hold the seeds he sought. He prodded a suspicious looking mound and hit the jackpot. He spotted the rough brown top of an acorn and began to dig. He dug deeper and deeper until he freed the nut. It was rather large, larger than most, but it was the perfect specimen.

With a smile he began to pry the top loose with his sword. He grinned victoriously as it popped off, and he removed it from the main shell. He turned back to the museum and prepared for the trek back. Suddenly, he heard an angry chittering sound behind him. Before he could react he felt a powerful mass slam into him. The breath was driven from his lungs, and the acorn hat flew from his hand. He tried to reach for his sword, but was pounced on by two furry paws before he could. The last he saw was a flash of grey fur, then everything went black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Aw, man, ya shouldn't have," Jedediah said, marveling at the brightly painted, remote controlled convertible.

"It was nothing," Larry said, smiling at his miniature friend's obvious liking of the new toy.

"Alright, alright my turn." Teddy said, pushing to the front. He handed the tiny cowboy a rather small object, intricately wrapped with a stripe-designed Band Aid.

"No way!" He said with excitement, his eyes gleaming at the wonderful little object. "No way!" He repeated, lifting it to the light. Teddy and the others smiled.

"What is it?" Sacagawea asked, craning to see over the heads of the other exhibits.

"I got him an earing." The president replied.

"Earing?" Larry questioned, confused. "Why..."

But the night guard needed no further explanation as he watched the cowboy rush over to his new car, and proceed to attach his new hood ornament the front. He took a step back. "It's beautiful..."

"Cake time!" Said a voice from the other side of the room. Everyone turned and watched Ahkmenrah as the pharaoh carried over the three layer, vanilla with chocolate frosting cake to the table. Jedediah's eyes lit up and he couldn't help but jump childishly at the sight of his cake. At the top sat a little plastic cactus, and neatly written words that read _Happy Birthday Jed._

"First slice goes to the birthday cowboy!" Teddy said, cutting a small piece from the top. Small to him, but massive to the tiny cowboy.

"Dang golly," He said, holding it in his hands. "How 'm I s'posed 'ta eat this?"

"Very slowly," Said Will, coming up beside his leader. "You know what happens when you eat cake to fast."

"Aw, shush up now. I don't get sick eatin' cake."

"Not that you get sick. Ya just get a heck of a sugar rush."

Jedediah smirked, and took a mouthful of cake. He whipped the frosting from his face with a piece of napkin, and looked out at his partying friends. And his eyes landed on each and every one of them, he got the feeling someone was missing...

"Hey Marcus," The cowboy said, looking at the Roman off to his right. Marcus looked up. "Where's Octavius got to?"

"Oh. He asked me to tell you that he would be late getting here." Marcus replied, going back to eating his piece of cake.

"What's takin' him so long? He's already missed gifts. Now he's missin' cake!"

"He will be here," Marcus said reassuringly. "In the meantime, let us continue the celebration of your special day."

With a small smile Jedediah nodded, and continued to party well into the night. As the clock struck 5:00 am he and the others were fast asleep, all partied out. Larry had let them crash where they were, since the next day was an off day. The only one he had go back to his place was Ahkmenrah, since it was just a little creepy having his mummy lying on the floor. No one realized that the Roman general still lay just beyond the walls.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next evening the exhibits woke up tired and groggy. They slowly disentangle themselves from the pile on the floor, and stretched their tired limbs as Larry flipped on the artificial lights. Many of them groaned as the light met their eyes. But they knew it was time to carry out their nightly activities, and cleaning up Larry's office was one of them.

Jedediah yawned as he awoke from the day's sleep, and glanced out the window of his new car. He'd fallen asleep inside of it, on the new leather seats, and had slept rather well. He'd enjoyed that new car smell all day as he rested, and he was not ready to bundle his gifts away back in his exhibit. He stepped out of his car and saw Larry walking over to him.

"Ey! Gigantor!" He shouted, waving his arms. "Can ya give me a lift?"

"Sure." Larry replied, scooping up the tiny cowboy. Jedediah climbed onto his shoulder and watched as Larry picked up his gifts, making sure he was as careful as possible. Larry began walking back to the hall. "So, did you like your party?"

"It was awesome." Jedediah said, smiling. There was gratitude in his voice, but his tiredness had worn out his excitement.

"Did you like your gift?"

"You betcha. The one thing that got me irritated was the fact that Octavius didn't show up."

The night guard glanced at his small friend and frowned. "He didn't?"

Jedediah shook his head. "Nope. Didn't even drop by 'ta say hi. Marcus said he just runnin' late. I think he forgot."

The night guard's frown deepened. "It's not like Octavius to forget something like that."

Jedediah thought for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yeah...it ain't." Then, his expression turned to fear.

"Jed?" Larry asked, slightly concerned. "Something wrong?"

But the cowboy didn't appear to hear. He was muttering quietly to himself. "The other day I'd asked him for an acorn helmet. Marcus said he was running late. Acorns are found outside..."

Larry froze mid stride. "You think he...went outside?"

Jedediah didn't answer. Instead he climbed down the night guard and ran as fast as he could for the door. Larry followed, eventually able to snatch up the tiny cowboy and make the rest of the way to the door much faster. Once outside, both pairs of eyes looked around anxiously; cowboy and night guard alike calling for their missing friend. After just minutes of searching, Jedediah's tiny eyes spotted a acorn top lying upside down by Larry's foot. He called for the night guard to stop.

"What is it?" Larry asked, slowly lowering the cowboy to the ground.

"Acorn top," He said, picking it up. He studied it carefully. "Acorns don't just show up this time of year..." Jedediah took a few steps forwards, and felt something crunch beneath his feet. At first he thought it was freshly fallen snow, but when he looked down he saw that it was not snow. It was dust. He gasped and stumbled back, numbing into Larry's palm.

"Oh..." The night guard whispered, shocked by the discovery. He didn't know what to say.

Jedediah crept forwards. He slowly sank to his knees beside the pile. With both hands he scooped up some of the dust, completely silent as he watched it run through his fingers. His breathing became forceful and deep as he blinked quickly, choking back a cry. He felt Larry's hand gently pick him up, and he cried, burying his face in the night guard's jacket. No gift could replace what he had just lost.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

With a loving smile the young woman looked down at her newborn son. She gently rubbed his head, admiring his dark brown hair. It matched his eyes, which was a curious thing, since both her and his father were both red heads. But he was her child all the same, and as she cradled him in the hospital bed she could sense the special spark that resided within him. He was a special one.


	2. Chapter 2

New York City wasn't too bad a place to live in. He'd been born and raised among the high buildings of the great city.

Sure it was crowded, and noisy, and even the simplest necessities of the everyday were ridiculously expensive, and the fact that New Yorkers were viewed as a completely different race by the rest of humanity. But overall it was a good place to call home. A good place to grow up, get an education, find the right girl, maybe even make a name for yourself.

Not the place to get dumped, fired, and evicted all in one night.

Needless to say this day wasn't a good day for him as he trudged down the street, intent on reaching the unemployment office before the gloomy sky opened up into a downpour...too late.

He sighed and walked on, sticking close to cafe overhangs in an attempt to keep himself relatively dry. Considering he already walked ten blocks, another two wouldn't hurt. He was successful at keeping himself dry, until he reached the next block, and was showered with a mixture of exhaust fumes and water as a taxi whipped past him. He sighed again, and wished he had at least enough for a taxi. He didn't. He didn't have enough for anything, really So, he carried on.

Sylvia had taken all of it. First sneaking it out of his bank account, claiming it was to pay for her "textbooks" for her "law degree." Then she took the rent and bill money to "fix her car." What she really did? Shopping sprees, nights on the town with her girlfriends, and a deluxe trip to the Bahamas. The last one had been the whip that broke the horse's back.

The call from the travel agency had concerned him since the devil woman had said she was "visiting her sick mother" for a couple weeks. Unfortunately, the trip was nonrefundable, leaving him broke and faced with a massive credit card debt for a trip he couldn't even go on.

She'd left him swimming in debt, leaving him to face the angry landlord pounding on his door every night threatening eviction by police interference and a nice, cold dumpster if he couldn't pay him the money, and the power company demanded their balance or they would cut him off. And on top of all that, Sylvia worked at the same job as him, meaning the manager sided with the pretty, simpering blonde demon for everything.

The night after he'd confronted her she'd thrown a fit with tears, yells, and accusations in front of all the customers. He'd been pulled aside by the manager, into the "death trap," or so it was referred to by his coworkers but was really his boss' office. Just as he'd feared, the loyal employee of twenty years was pink slipped, and cast out of the place, watching through the window as the demonic woman was given his position. And higher pay.

Not that the job was really worth it, he'd started after graduating high school as a way to make ends meet while in college and was planning on starting on his own. He didn't go to NYU and get a degree in Ancient Military Strategies emphasis on the Roman Empire to spend his nights and a good part of his days at the 32nd Street PourHouse. Paid a quarter over minimum wage an hour so he could be the short order cook on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and then the bartender Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, not counting he'd had to go in on Sundays to do the bookwork and inventory.

It was shaming to him that the unemployment office was his only option. His parents both lived in California and could do little to help their now poor son, and he'd found out the hard way that the other bars in the area wouldn't take him. The manager had apparently called them all and trash talked him, using Sylvia as his credible source. It was typical, managers always listening to pretty girls first...there was a word for that, but he was too tired to utter it.

He trekked on through the city, seeing the office just around the corner, desperate for a paying job that would let him keep at least his apartment and electricity. He'd been disappointed when the first two he'd visited had nothing, and was hoping that the third time would be the charm. It just had to be. If not, he was doomed.

The traffic light was red when he paused at the corner crosswalk, stamping his feet impatiently as he waited. A school bus full of kids made him turn, glancing up at the Museum of Natural History as they rushed inside and out of the rain. A "Help Wanted" sign was taped to one of the front doors, making him shake his head as he finally saw his chance to cross. There was no way was he ever working there. Not even if it was the very last job in New York. It was just too busy for him,being so antisocial. A slight smile appeared on his face as he finally entered the office, and he shook himself down.

"Can I help you?" Asked the woman behind the desk, her voice sounding slightly irritated as she put down the nail filer she'd been holding.

"Yes, um," He stuttered, trying to sound as professional as he could. "I'd like a job, please."

"Take a seat."

He sat down, rubbing his hands together to get the chill out of them. He glanced around the office, picking up some details of the place. He realized that this was the same building his father had found a job in. It must be good luck, he decided. He faced the woman as she finished writing on a few papers.

"So," She said, peering at him over her glasses. "You have a history degree."

He nodded.

"You know those aren't that useful here, right?"

He gulped, and nodded slowly.

"Well, I do have one job available..."

A hopeful smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he scooted his chair closer. He eagerly took the paper form her hand, looked at the address...and frowned.

"You're kidding me." He said, reading the address over and over again.

The woman shrugged. "It's the last job we have with your credentials. I can organize a meeting for you if you like."

"But...no...I but..." He sighed, and bowed his head in defeat. "Fine...any time after 2:00."

"Good!" The woman said, smiling. "I hope you get this. Everyone who's tried has left. It seems like no one wants to be an assistant night guard." She handed him the paper, waved goodbye, and watched him walk out the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He looked at himself and frowned, running his fingers through his mottled hair. He'd been wet and exhausted after the long walk to and from the unemployment office, and had fallen asleep as soon as he'd hit the bed. He'd woken just a quarter before three, and had almost panicked when he remembered his meeting was at 3:00 exactly. He'd had little time to get ready, and had hurriedly threw on his best suite- which barely fit him- and had quickly brushed his teeth and grabbed his papers. He'd been heading for the door when he realized his hair was a mess, but had no time to fix it. He'd found some loose change in his couch cushions, just enough for a taxi to and from the museum.

He rushed out the door in a hurry, hailing the first taxi he laid eyes on. He got in and began looking over his papers one last time. After a while he tired of it, and contented himself with looking out the window at the city going by. The sun was peeking out from behind the clouds, giving him a glimmer of hope. He could get this job if he tried. If he really, really tried, he could keep everything he'd worked so hard to get. He just had to get through the meeting.

That was his downfall.

Though good with formal discussions, people had always been strange to him. He was the kind of guy who preferred to spend time alone rather than with people. As long as the meeting was short and to the point, he assured himself he'd be fine.

When the cab reached the museum he paid, and got out. He stood looking up at the large building, the engine fading into the sea of noises in the road. He quickly climbed the steps, and stepped aside as a couple and their two children came through the doors, talking excitedly as the made their way down the steps. He couldn't help but smile. If this place made people so happy, maybe he'd enjoy it here. He walked through the hallways, looking around for the office. Surely there was one somewhere. As he walked on he found himself getting sidetracked, the various exhibits and artifacts catching his eye. One in particular caught his attention, and he bent down to get a better look.

In one display, which, obviously, held a Roman legion and a city, sat two statues. One he recognized as the great Caesar, but the other was unknown to him. Yet it looked familiar...for some reason an image of himself looking in the mirror of the cab flashed in his mind, and he laughed at the ridiculous parallels. It was a statue.

"Excuse me," Came a voice from behind him.

He jumped, startled by the man in uniform by the doorway, and dropped his briefcase, his papers going everywhere. "Oh, no." He said, bending down to pick them up. "I-I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't know you were there-"

"It's fine," The man said. He then bent down and picked up the few papers which lay at his feet. He glanced over them, then up at the man. "You're here for the interview, right?"

The man quickly nodded, and extended his hand in formal greeting. The night guard took it, and then handed him the papers.

"I'm Larry. Larry Daley. Nice to meet you..." The night guard's voice trailed off as he saw the man's face.

"Larry Daley?" The man asked, an excited tone in voice. "Of Daley Devices?"

Larry shook his head for a moment, dismissing the familiar voice and appearance of the man. "Yep. That's me."

The man smiled, a rather familiar smile, and took his hand again, shaking it vigorously. "I'm Owen Scott. Huge fan of you, sir."

"Oh, really?" Larry questioned, still unable to shake the feeling that he knew this man from somewhere.

Owen nodded again. "I've got all your products. They work quite well."

Larry smiled halfheartedly, still looking at the man's face. He looked from it to the small statue he'd installed in the Roman exhibit, and couldn't shake the feeling he was seeing the figure. The man followed his gaze for a moment, looking slightly confused.

"What do you make of that..." Larry said, almost to himself.

The man leaned over the exhibit. "I'd say it was a legion, sir. About five hundred strong. That building there would be the Coliseum."

"What about the statues?"

"Well that one is Julius Caesar and that one is..." Owen frowned for a moment, then looked up at the night guard. "I don't know who that is. He looks like a general though. It could be anyone."

"Do you notice anything strange about the Coliseum?"

Owen looked at it for a while, before shrugging and turning to Larry again.

"It's early for the time period this exhibit portrays." Larry explained. "We'd had a...a figure for the main attraction of this exhibit, but we lost hi- it. We lost it somehow and replaced it with a statue. That's the statue of a general named Octavius."

Owen frowned."I don't remember hearing that name before..."

"What's your degree in?" Larry asked.

"Romans, pretty much. Architecture, military, that kind of thing."

The night guard nodded thoughtfully. "I think you've got the job. Come back tomorrow and we'll show you around."

Owen nodded slightly, turned, and broke into a smile and joyous laughter as soon as he made it outside. Perhaps life wasn't so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to my co-writer SummerMistedDragon for this chapter!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

Dressed smartly in the navy blue guard uniform, black shoes polished, and unruly hair tamed with copious amounts of combing and some water, Owen followed Larry Daley through the silent museum. At this hour, it was void of all visitors and other employees, even the janitors absent, having already polished up the almost immaculate building before departing. He had to admit, even for being just a history museum, it was beautiful…

"Ok!"

Owen jumped, then kicked himself internally for not paying attention as Larry clapped once and rubbed his hands together, as if to keep himself calm. Why was he nervous? It didn't make much sense. Maybe he was just cold, Owen told himself, puzzling over the matter. The night guard had the job anyways. It wasn't his livelihood on the line.

"So, I figured we'd start at the beginning…" Larry paused, coughing once into his sleeve. "...or at least the source...heh...This here is the Tomb of the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah. One of the greatest pharaohs of all a famous figure…."

As Larry kept talking, explaining the history of the mummy lying locked in his sarcophagus nearby, Owen began to zone out,his mind concentrating on the room he was in. He stared up at the twenty foot tall statues that guarded the exhibit's entrance. The black marble and gold plated jackal gods were stunning, polished to the point he could almost see his reflection in the gleaming stone that must be thousands of years old.

Something jingled, then clicked off to his side. If Owen had been paying attention he would have seen Larry unlock the sarcophagus, and heard him mutter something about the museum curator's rules and the nuisance of stubborn padlocks. Instead, he read over the plaque set into the base of one of the statutes, clearly fascinated by the facts on the significance of the Egyptian God Anubis, being the symbol of the pharoah's protector. It was absolutely incredible, the similarities between the Roman beliefs and Egyptian culture.

The black marble seemed to darken as the lighting in the museum dimmed, the light that entered through the skylight that illuminated many of the halls dimming as the sun sank below the horizon.

"Mr. Daley-" Owen began, turning to the night guard.

"Call me Larry." Larry said, smiling slightly. "No need for formalities."

"Of course," Owen said, shifting a bit. He glanced back out at the rest of the museum as the sunlight faded completely from the hallway, the exhibit they were standing in growing dark. He noted that the dim lighting added an almost mysterious tone to the atmosphere, and found it slightly exciting. "How well does the museum stay lit at night? I noticed you carry a rather large flashlight, are the hallways truly that da-"

Suddenly, something abruptly banged behind him, sounding like stone on stone, and Owen spun around from watching the last of the sunlight fade from the hallway floor. He felt a rush of warmth surge over him, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed the lid fly off of the sarcophagus. What Owen did notice, were the two, twenty foot tall jackals he had been admiring earlier, now staring at him and threatening him with the tips of their spears, their cold metal eyes trained on him.

The next thing he did was let out a rather undignified scream, and ran out of the room. Had he stayed a bit longer, he would have heard the sharp command in a foreign language, and have heard the conversation between the very much alive and mobile mummy who was speaking with the head night guard.

"Who was that?" Ahkmenrah asked staring dumbfounded and a little surprised after the running man.

"That Ahk...is the new guy." Larry said, shaking his head.

A weary sigh left the pharaoh's lips, bordering on frustrated exasperation, "Oh great...another screamer…"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Stupid.

Stupid.

Absolutely positively stupid! What the heck had he been thinking!? He knew working at a museum was a bad idea! How could he be so stupid? But more importantly...what the hell was going on!?

Owen didn't have time to dwell on that as he skidded around the first corner he came to. He was desperately trying to find the set of stairs he and Larry had climbed earlier from the guard's office. As soon as he turned the corner, he froze, running literally into something so menacing he let out a cry of shock.

"Khen chamd baigaa bögööd ta muzyeid yuu khiij baigaa yum be?" Screamed a hairy faced barbarian directly in his face.

Owen stood face to face with a rapidly growing angry Hun,who did not seem happy to see him. As much as he had appreciated Attila's historical significance when in high school, he seemed just as mean as his historical counterpart. Especially as he took a step towards Owen, miming ripping something, or someone, apart.

For the second time that night, Owen let out a rather undignified howl and took off down yet another hallway, trying to get as far away from the pursuing Huns and Larry and someone else clothed in almost complete gold as they tried to catch up with him.  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Larry slid on the floor a bit, nodding as Attila caught him as they continued to sprint after the still panicked Owen Scott. Ahk was trying to catch the Hun up on the situation while struggling to run in his zero traction sandals.

"No-no Attila...no ripping! Just catch the new guy and don't let him leave the museum!" Ahk said urgently, shaking his head while making the pulling gesture to make his point.

Attila grunted and nodded, shouting an order to his men before they put on another burst of speed and left the night guard in their metaphorical dust.

Ahkmenrah at last caught up with him, and reached out to keep the slightly out of shape night guard on his feet as he wheezed for air.

"This is not good…" Larry said, panting. He doubled over for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

"Did you not attempt to explain to him what happens within the museum after sunset?" Ahk asked, crossing his arms.

"Um yeah, Ahk...kinda why we were in your exhibit in the first place."

The pharaoh sighed, sounding weighed down with the burdens of an ancient ruler. Larry looked at him guiltily.

"Did you at least ensure he paid attention when you were explaining?" Asked the pharaoh, hoping for some good news.

"Umm…"

Ahk crossed his arms over his jeweled chest, staring sternly at Larry, "Did you think to even start with 'everything within the museum comes to life at night'?"

Larry glared back, his eyes angry. "One, don't take that tone with me I'm older than you-"

"No you're not, I'm over four thousand-" Ahkmenrah protested, only to get cut off.

"And two...No! I did not start with that and probably should have! Okay!? Now just help me sort this out!"

Ahk rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to scold the night guard about yet another hectic night with a new guard when the Moai head roared down the hallways.

"Run-run Dum-Dum!"

"I swear I'm gonna…" Larry ran to the nearest staircase as a pealing scream echoed back to them, the sound becoming bone chillingly familiar to the last time it was heard…..

"Yes," Ahk nodded, his tone tinged with a touch of sarcasm. "You probably should go catch him. Before he makes the other exhibits panic."

Larry sighed, before turning on his heel and running towards the sound of th panicking man and excited exhibits.

It was going to be a long night…

Xxx

Owen encountered many strange things on his flight through the museum. The first was the Easter Island head, who shouted at him the second he had jumped down the stairs, trying to avoid the pursuing Huns. Then he met the bumbling and very obnoxious Neanderthals, who had stopped him when they'd tackled him.

That had hurt a bit…

Apparently they had figured out that he was not Larry by completely messing up his hair and yanking at his clothes, trying to find the other night guard inside the new one. Needless to say it resulted in both parties getting frustrated and by the time Owen was able to scramble away he not only had the Huns still chasing him, but three angry Neanderthals hollering after him as well.

To top it all off, some monkey was howling throughout the building, apparently acting as an alarm system as more and more museum exhibits came to investigate all the commotion. It was one thing to see all these people and animals during the day when they weren't alive and immobile, but it was another to see the eyes blinking and tracking his every movement as he pounded through the hallways looking for a way out.

He let out another scream.

Scrambling around another corner, he almost slid into something very large, and, to be honest, very terrifying. He found himself face to face with the one museum piece he had forgotten about in his shocked state. And it was one that gave him shivers even when he was awake.

"Oh no...oh no...no...no...no-no-nonononono…." He muttered, his hands trembling as he stared into the eyeless sockets. "No no no!"

The dark beige and black cracked skull was inches from his nose, sniffing loudly before it nudged Owen's chest gently.

Now normally, he would have picked up instantly that a creature, no matter its species or age or state of living, that carried a bone or stick or ball in its mouth and then proceeded to drop it at someone's feet and stand there waiting with a tail or at least hindquarters wagging in the air, wanted to play fetch. He might also would have realized the T-Rex was totally harmless, even without Larry explaining this to him.

At the current moment, though, all Owen could do the second the rib bone smacked the tile floor beneath his feet was scream yet again, and take off running once more.

"Whoa there!" Came a sudden hollering voice.

Before Owen could stop, he did hit a wall, and then stumbled back to collide with a solid body that was smaller than Attila but still strong enough to keep both of them upright as he heaved for air and scrambled to get away.

The leather gloves didn't let up though, and Owen managed to calm down enough to realize just who was holding him and asking if he was alright.

Theodore Roosevelt, 26th President of the United States of America, said, "Easy lad...that's it...nothing to be worried about." When Owen began to calm down, Teddy smiled gently, and let him go. "Now then, care to tell me just who you are and what you are doing in the museum? It would appear by your uniformed attire you have come to fill the vacant night guard position, and...are not having an easy night of it…"

Owen nodded, shaking as the president who should be astride his bay horse in the front lobby now stood in front of him and held him steady when he jumped in surprise as Larry came rushing in with the gold figure right behind him. That's when Owen realized that, judging by the arched crown upon the young man's head, the pharaoh resided...or, had resided, over Lower Egypt. Or at least close to it, the crown wasn't complete. He then scolded himself for thinking about history of all things when something more important was at hand.

"Thanks Teddy." larry said, nodding once to the president. He then looked at Owen. "Owen, look, I may have started things off wrong-"

The pharaoh abruptly cleared his throat. "May?"

Why did a pharaoh have British Accent? Owen asked himself, his gaze puzzled. And why did he know english?

"Ok, I definitely started this night out wrong." Larry said, casting a sheepish glance at Ahk. "But here's the deal. This is Ahkmenrah, and his tablet, the gold one, is what brings everyone to life at night from sunset to sunrise, and-"

"You're kidding me right?" Owen snapped, taking a step back now that President Roosevelt had let go. "A magic tablet? Seriously? I've hear more far fetched stories from the guys who used to come into the bar. Nice try Mr. Daley, great way to break in the new guy with some over elaborate hazing, rather historically accurate...but still over the top."

"Owen, listen to me, this isn't some crazy hazing or dream or-"

"Dream?! That would actually be a better explanation than this!" Owen laughed sarcastically, completely missing the angry glare on Ahkmenrah's face. He fought to speak through his hyperventilating, rubbing his face in confusion and he groaned out, "Just a dream...just a horrible-horrible dream...all the bloody stress from Sylvia and the landlord and that stupid bar and the unemployment office and…"

Before he could go on both Larry and President Roosevelt took a step back as someone else graced the scene, nodding to Ahkmenrah as she stepped up to the almost hysterical Owen. It only took her two seconds to take in the disaster the night had created and did the one thing guaranteed to work and get everyone back on track.

*slap*

The crack reverberated across the museum lobby, and even the rambunctious T-Rex who had been watching from a corner froze at the sound. The silence that took over the once loud lobby allowed everyone a chance to breathe, and the latest addition to the night life a chance to get his bearings.

Owen gasped out an awkward noise of shock and pain, before working his jaw a second as he rubbed his cheek.

"Better?" Sacagawea asked, arms clasped behind her back.

The Shoshone woman before him was calm and patient as he fought to get his head to nod, remembering from his brief skimming of the museum pamphlet that this was Sacajawea, meaning that Lewis and Clark were here too. Somewhere apparently, wandering around like everything….everyone….else.

"Better." He finally managed to say, shaking his head once to stop the ringing.

She gave him a curt nod, her sharp eyes turning to Larry with a fierceness Owen was instantly afraid of encountering. "Good. Larry Daley, if I may suggest you take our new night guard to the security office with our pharaoh here and explain just what is going on, the right way this time."

Teddy cut in at that moment. "Without him running around screaming loud enough to wake the dead."

The joke fell flat on Owen and the others, no one in the mood for the simple humor. But Larry did agree with the suggestion, motioning for Owen to follow him deeper into the museum with a look of pure apology.

Owen started to, pausing after a couple steps and glancing around at everyone in pure dumbfounded shock. "Twenty years working in a bar around drunk and stoned college kids and none of it prepared me for this" He muttered, shaking his head slowly. "...by the gods my life sucks."

Teddy and Sacagawea watched him follow Larry and the irritated Ahkmenrah down the hallway to the back of the museum, both glancing to each other in concern.

"Not a bad fellow…" Teddy said, nodding after them. "A bit stressed and excitable, but Lawrence wasn't much different at the start of his nights here-"

"Teddy..." Sacagawea said softly, her soft eyes glazed with concern.

The president sighed, instantly deflating, "You see it to?"

"Of course I do, how could I not?" She took one of Teddy's hands, and turned her gaze to the backs of the three figures entering the door to the security office. "But it does not matter what we see...what does matter is-"

"Making sure Jedediah doesn't see."


	4. Chapter 4

Owen sat staring at the night guard who sat across from him, uncertainty glinting in his eyes. The pharaoh was seated beside the night guard, his shiny golden Tablet in hand. Larry cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"Sorry again about….you know…" He said, nodding towards the door.

Owen nodded faintly, still a little too shaken to speak. Now that he thought back, he had acted a little foolish. He should have stopped and questioned the living exhibits, opposed to running around mad like a frightened animal. Besides, how many people actually got a chance like this? To actually walk among such amazing, long dead historical figures as the ones just outside?

Now that the fear had gone, he found himself growing curious about them, the exhibits. Curious about how they were alive, what they were, as well as so many questions he'd had wished to ask them when he was a measly schoolboy in high school. And now he had that chance. But, a small part of him fretted nervously at the thought that maybe he'd been brought to be told to leave….

"Question," He asked, sitting up politely and erasing the blank look from his eyes. "Why?"

It was a rather general question, he knew, but its meaning seemed obvious enough.

"Well, you see-"

"Nevermind, Larry." Ahkmenrah said, raising a hand to silence the night guard. "Let me explain, seeing as to how you screwed up everything else this evening."

Larry frowned at the pharaoh's slightly rude language, but decided to let it slide. He was under a lot of stress; this was the fifth time this week he'd had to explain the Tablet to someone. Three had run off before he could finish, one had fainted, and one had gone a little insane and may or may not be in a mental hospital currently. Larry also knew the Egyptian was worried. For one, if another man left proclaiming their experiences, surely someone would be sent to investigate the museum, and possibly disturbing the fragile web of life and power that pulsed within its walls. But there was another, more immediate thing both the pharaoh, and the night guard concerned over.

The other exhibits had also been stressed out by the many new faces they'd seen by the past week. Attila had been near the end of his rope, his temper slowly bubbling over every time he found out that the night guards he was chasing were not intruders to be torn apart. The cavemen, too, had been annoyed, always seeming to think that any man in a night guard uniform was Larry. This caused them to stare at the real Larry in confusion most of the time, and other times act aggressively towards him. The miniatures, too, had been worried over the coming and going of new night guards. They always had this fear that another Cecil or someone like him would end up getting the job. But here, now, in the present, Owen was on the brink of causing an even bigger problem. For Jedediah.

Though it had been years since Octavius' passing, the cowboy had not fully recovered. He hadn't been very social with anybody, and barely even strayed out of his hall. He spent his time either in his tent, or riding his horse around the far edge of the wall, out of speaking distance of everybody. He'd have episodes sometimes, of not wanting to be touched or spoken to, sometimes he would leave the hall for days, nights on end, and would show up again later on, refusing to tell anyone where he'd been. But recently, he'd been even worse off, considering what time of year it was. It was winter again. The season he'd lost his Roman friend, and a week from that dreadful day.

Ahk and Larry would have to keep Owen well away from his exhibit. At least for the next week or two.

"So, to explain," Ahkmenrah began, pacing his Tablet on the table where Owen could see it. "I am the pharaoh Ahkmenrah, ruler of Upper and Lower Egypt, and son of the great Merenkahre. And you are?"

"Owen. Owen Scott. Son of...Frank Scott….I'm from Brooklyn…."

Larry couldn't help but smirk at the man, his introduction sounding very much like his own when he first met Ahkmenrah.

"Now. You see this?" Ahk asked, tapping his Tablet with his thumb. The beat sounded somewhat impatient to Larry, and Owen made a mental note to stay away from the pharaoh the rest of the night.

Owen nodded.

"This is my Tablet. The Golden Tablet of Ahkmenrah, as it is appropriately named. It has a special magic in it. Egyptian magic."

Owen frowned. "Magic?" He asked, his brows furrowing in thought. "Egyptian magic?"

"Yes."

"That's just a myth." Owen concluded, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "Surely."

For a moment Larry thought Ahk would lose it on Owen, but instead, the Egyptian calmly smiled, though it was obviously a forced smile, and continued to explain.

"It is no myth. The magic my Tablet possesses is far more powerful than anything. It is what brings us to life. All the exhibits, including myself."

"Surely, you must be joking," Owen said. But his expression was growing less sure as the pieces began to fit together.

"It is no joke" Ahkmenrah concluded. He then abruptly stood, picking up his Tablet. "Larry, why don't you take Owen for a little tour? Let him meet the other exhibits. It might help."

"Alright." Larry said with a nod, standing. Ahk seemed to be at the end of his patience, so it was best they left quickly. Owen stood as well, and began heading for the door with the night guard.

"One more thing," Ahk said, raising a hand to stop the night guard.

Larry gestured for Owen to go ahead, though he looked a little nervous about venturing out alone, and nodded to Ahk to speak.

"Don't let him near the miniature exhibits. Whatever you do."

"I know." Larry said, nodding once. "I know."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"And here are the Huns," Larry said, gesturing to the group of hairy men that stood around the information desk.

Owen shied back a little, side-stepping behind Larry in a manner that didn't make it too obvious. He hadn't really wanted to meet the Huns, especially their leader, after their last skirmish. But the night guard had insisted.

"Go ahead and say hi." Larry insisted as Attila walked over, his chest puffed out in which he could only decipher as a display of strength.

Owen gulped, and extended his hand. "H-How do you do?" He asked.

Attila looked at his outstretched hand and sniffed, puffing his chest out farther. Larry frowned.

"Attila, be nice, he's only trying to be polite."

"Yaagaad Romyn end baina ve? Kharin ter ikh khiij, tany khuvtsas baidag ve?" The Hun said, glaring suspiciously at Owen.

Larry, not knowing what was said, just shrugged, before turning to Owen. "He can be a little mean sometimes. Especially when he's tired. He's probably been busy this evening."

"I don't think he liked me." Owen said, a slight frown on his face as he and Larry turned away from the group of Huns.

"It just takes a little time. He'll come around." Larry replied, giving a reassuring smile. But inside, he knew why the Hun disliked Owen. And it was obvious as they went through the halls that the other exhibits did too.

They walked on for a while, running into other exhibits as they went. They met Columbus, whom had fascinated Owen, not his history but how he was alive, as well as the Neanderthals, who had been a little peeved to see two night guards at once. After some poking and prodding and some rather uncomfortable touching, the cavemen found a way to distinguish them and let them go on their way. After a while they came across the two exhibits Owen had been both excited and nervous to see again.

"Hey, Teddy!" Larry said, slightly jogging towards the president after a glance at his watch told him how close to sunrise it was. Owen followed briskly, slightly skidding on the well polished floors.

"Lawrence!" Teddy said, raising a hand in greeting. "And the new lad too! Good to see you, son."

Owen took the president's outstretched hand, glad that there was at least one exhibit who knew the polite exchange he was use to. "It's...it's nice to meet you, sir." He said, still trying to make himself believe he was really standing before the 26th President of the United States.

"Indeed. It's good to see a new face around here."

Owen smiled, then turned to face the young woman who stood beside the president. Remembering the slap she'd given him, he quickly made a show of bowing, hoping to appease her. She simply smiled slightly, and shook her head.

"Please," She said, taking his hand and pulling him up from the bow. "Don't bow. I'm not royalty."

Teddy smiled, and patted the woman on the shoulders. "This is Sacagawea. Shoshone native."

"I know."Owen said, smiling. He then turned to her. "I learned about you in middle school. And Lewis and Clark."

"Did you learn about how they came by me?" She asked.

"Well, yes, but not the whole story…"

"Maybe I could tell you." Sacagawea offered, sitting down. "Come here." She gestured to the seat beside her. Owen hesitated.

"Go on," Said Larry, smiling. "She won't bite."

When Owen had gone, Larry sighed and leaned heavily against the wall, Teddy standing beside him.

"Has it been obvious?"

"Too obvious." Larry replied, watching his new assistant guard talk with the Shoshone woman about her history. "Attila didn't seem to like him much."

Teddy sighed. "It's startling, how much he looks like our dear Octavius. It's almost as if he is the same person."

"Yeah," Larry said, his gaze still watching Owen. "Almost too much like him. And not just the way he looks. He has his personality, too. That...that look in his eyes…"

"Lawrence," Teddy whispered, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Larry found that his voice had almost cracked, and nodded, blinking a wet moistness that had appeared in his eyes. He wiped them on his sleeve. "Yeah." He whispered, sniffing once. "I'm fine."

"Jedediah does not know, right?"

Larry nodded. "I can't bring myself to take Owen to meet him and have him realize he's not Octavius."

"You're right," Said Teddy, his gaze landing on Owen and Sacagawea. "It wouldn't be fair to do that to him."

"How did this happen?"Larry burst out, making sure to keep his voice low. "Why does he seem so much like Octavius?"

Teddy shrugged helplessly, wishing he knew. "It is either pure coincidence or…"

"Or?" Larry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Or perhaps...something along the lines of reincarnation…"

Larry shook his head, stopping the president. "No." He said, his gaze dropping to the floor. "It's not that. the Tablet does a lot of weird things, but I don't think it does that."

"Stil," Teddy persisted, lowering his voice further. "It might be wise to ask Ahkmenrah about it. He might know."

Larry nodded, before the president spoke again.

"Speaking of our dear pharaoh Ahkmenrah, has he noticed too?"

"I think so," Larry said, rubbing his temples with exhaustion. "He seemed pretty irritated by him. I guess seeing him isn't something he wants to deal with."

"He still feels guilty." Teddy said, glancing at the entrance to the Egyptian wing. He caught a glimpse of the pharaoh staring at him, before the young prince lowered his eyes to his Tablet when he realized he'd been caught looking at them. "He could not have stopped the way the spell works outside these walls. No one can. He understands that, right?"

Larry nodded, suddenly too depressed to speak. He couldn't handle this tonight. Owen was Owen, and that was it. Octavius was gone and there was nothing that could change that. What had happened,was what remained.

"Looks like they're done." Teddy said, gesturing to the two as the walked back over to them.

Owen was smiling like a young school boy seeing his first love. And his love was hearing the history from Sacagawea's perspective.

"Can I talk to you again sometime?" He asked, after thanking her yet again for her time.

"Of course." She said, smiling. "Any time."

"Alright." Larry said, stretching. "It's almost sunrise. You two should get back to your places."

"We will." Teddy said, taking Sacagawea's hand. "Good morning, Lawrence. Good morning, Owen."

Teddy watched as the two guards walked off, then turned to Sacagawea when she let out a sad sigh.

"So much like him…." She whispered, her head hanging low. "It was like….like he was right in front of me…"

"I know." Teddy whispered, hugging her. "I know."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Alright," Larry said, setting up the last of the exhibits as the few minutes until sunrise started to slide by. "And at the end of the night we just do this, unlock those who need it, make sure everyone's in there place, and then we're done."

Owen nodded, though his mind was not on the instructions he was being given. "We never looked at the miniature hall." He said, an almost longing look in his eyes.

Larry froze. "Oh...we never did, did we?"

Owen shook his head, taking a few eager steps towards the entrance to the hall.

"No!" Larry exclaimed quickly stepping in front of them. "We don't...you don't go in there."

"Why not?" Owen asked, crossing his arms.

"It's under renovation."

"I saw nothing stating it was." Owen protested, his eyes searching the night guard's. "Why can't I-"

"Just, no." Larry said, pushing Owen away from the entrance.

Part of him wanted to demand that he be allowed in, but Owen knew that was a surefire way of getting himself fired. And by the look in the night guard's eyes, he had already pushed a few buttons.

"Fine." Owen muttered, stepping away.

Larry nodded. "Good. How about you go check on the African Mammals. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to check on the miniature inhabitants."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jedediah quietly reined in his horse as he felt the ground tremor, knowing who it was. He didn't want to see anyone tonight, especially the night guard but he knew hiding was useless now. He'd been seen.

"Hey, Jed." Larry whispered, kneeling down.

Jedediah nodded a greeting, tying his horse up in a secluded corner of the hall. Larry sighed.

"I...brought you something." He said, handing the cowboy a tiny piece or peppermint gum he'd torn off a stick of it. Jed's favorite.

"Thanks, Gigantor," Jedediah said, shaking his head. "But I don't want any, if that's fine by you."

"It's good." Larry said, sitting down. "It's all good."

The cowboy sighed as he just stood there, the night guard tapping the floor awkwardly.

"It's supposed to snow later this week." Larry said, hoping to cheer the cowboy up.

Jedediah bit his lip, bowing his head to hide his face. He didn't want to think about this week. But his mind wouldn't let him forget.

"Octavius loved snow…" He whispered, his eyes beginning to tear up at the memory.

Larry sighed, and picked up the tiny cowboy, hugging him close for a moment before setting him down in his place. "It's about three minutes 'till sunrise. Do you want me to stay with you?"

"Nah," Jedediah whispered, shaking his head softly. "I don't need company."

"Alright." Larry whispered, patting his tiny head softly.

"Hey Larry!" Came Owen's voice from outside the hall. "How do I unlock the lions' exhibit?"

For a second Jedediah perked up, his eyes snapping towards the voice. "Who's that?" He asked.

"Nobody. Good morning, Jed."

"Yeah...yeah...good morning."

As the cowboy watched the night guard leave, he heard the voice again, and felt something inside of him click. It sounded so much like….NO! He thought bitterly. It was not him. He was dead. As he felt the cold, tingling sensation of sunrise on his skin, he brushed the tears from his eyes, and whispered what he had always whispered since that terrible night. The words the only reason he'd hung on since then.

"Good morning, Octavius _._ "

And then, the sun came up.


	5. Chapter 5

Owen yawned tiredly as he wrapped himself in his bathrobe, slipping on his slippers.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" He yelled in response to the knocking on his door.

It was the day after his first night at the Museum of Natural History, and he was exhausted. For one thing he had stayed up all night and, even though he had stayed up late at his old job, he had not been prepared to stay up the entire night. There was also the fact that he had spent the night running around in almost pure terror, which tended to tire out the body. On top of all that, he was not a night owl, so he had a hard time sleeping during the day. So the final tally was- he had gotten roughly three hours of sleep in the past thirty six hours, and was drowsy and miserable. Plus, he had to be back at the museum at eight, so he was not pleased at being interrupted from sleep.

"I'm coming!" Owen yelled again, finally reaching the door. When he opened it, he immediately regretted the tone he had used.

There was his landlord, all nice and tidy in his suit, his arms crossed and holding a white sheet of paper in his hand. Owen immediately took a step back, wrapping his bathrobe to cover himself better and tying it quickly. He smiled sheepishly and nodded a greeting, silently stepping away from the door to allow his unexpected guest in.

"Mr. Scott," The landlord said, setting his suitcase down with a thump that made Owen wince. "I'm here to inform you that as of now, you have exactly one week to make your monthly due, or you will be evicted from the premises."

"What!?" Owen asked in surprise, his heart skipping a beat. "A week!?"

The landlord nodded, and opened his case to pull out a white slip of paper, with black words printed on it. He handed it to Owen, who took it gingerly, his eyes scanning the paper.

"Three thousand and…" Owen muttered, his blood running cold. "There's no way I can make this much in time!"

The landlord shrugged. "That's your problem, then. I expect the payment mailed to my address before the end of the week. If I do not have it," The landlord made a slitting motion with his finger against his throat, and gestured with his thumb to the street. "That will be your new home."

Owen nodded faintly, his mind reeling. "Y-Yes…"

WIth a curt nod and a grunt of approval, the landlord gathered up his case, opened the door, and left.

Owen stood there, a tremble traveling through him as the knowledge of his intimate eviction sunk in. What was he going to do? Where would he go? There was nowhere for him to go. He had just started his new job, and wouldn't get his first paycheck until Friday. And it was a minimal paying job!

Owen knew with a dreary heart he was doomed. He trudged into the living room and sank onto the couch, allowing his head to sag limply over his lap. He took a shaky breath and grasped his head with his hands, breathing deeply, in and out, in an attempt to clear his mind. He needed to stay calm. Calmness was the only way. Panic was certain doom.

Yet, he could not keep himself calm as he imagined himself homeless, unable to even get the shelter of a box, on the streets. He would be forced to sleep under bushes and park benches, beg for money, sleep and live in the cold, wet climate of New York, taking whatever little jobs he could and having to rely on others to help him….

Owen took another shaky breath, and closed his eyes. He would not let this problem get the better of him. He could do it. But even as he told himself this, he knew it was impossible. With a troubled sigh of defeat, he laid back against the cushions, he fell asleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey, Owen." Larry said, smiling with a friendly face as Owen walked in through the spinning doors. "How are you tonight?"

Owen gave a deep sigh, and forced a smile onto his face. "Oh, you know, just the usual struggle of waking up while it's still dark."

It wasn't entirely a lie. He had hit the snooze button about seven times before finally waking up. The new schedule wasn't easy, but he'd have to get used to it.

"Hungry?" Larry asked, gesturing to a McDonald's bag he had on the information desk. "I figured you might want something to munch on. I'd bought it for my son, but he decided to stay with his mom tonight."

Owen blinked, then replied quickly. "Um...thank you…" He took the offered food, and unwrapped the breakfast sandwhich within. Indeed, he had skipped eating his….breakfast?...before arriving. He just hadn't had any time. And, it had been drizzling that, so eating on the go would have been a struggle.

Larry smiled again, and glanced down at his watch. "We have about fifteen minutes 'til sunset."

"Oh." Owen said, swallowing his mouthful of biscuit. "I thought I was on time…"

"On time?" Larry shook his head with a small snicker of laughter. "You're earlier than I thought you'd be."

"Really?" Owen asked, curious to know what his veteran coworker thought of him.

"Yeah. When I first started, I was pretty keen on getting here on time. Still am."

"Since you must be here before sunset, to protect the….exhibits?" Owen asked, unsure what he should refer to the living beings in the museum.

Larry nodded. "I can't afford to be more than a few minutes late. These guys seem to go crazy every time I'm not around."

Owen thought for a moment, before speaking again. "What is it like, guarding them every night?"

"Hard." Larry said, nodding once. "Definitely hard. But you get used to it. They're good people, good friends."

There was silence for a moment, both men thinking to themselves. After a minute Owen cleared his throat, and spoke.

"You mentioned you had a son?"

Larry nodded, taking a sip of coffee. "Nicky. He's thirteen. Turning fourteen next month."

"Ah." Owen said. He gave a small smile, and a slightly longing look filled his brown eyes. "I wish I had children."

Larry smiled. "Kids are great."

Owen gave a small laugh, before breaking off into a sigh. "I could have had children with Sylvia…"

Larry raised an eyebrow, gazing curiously at the other night guard. "Sylvia's that girl, right?"

Owen nodded, letting out a deep sigh. "I shouldn't have trusted her. She took everything I had, everything I worked for. She took my money, she took my job…" Owen paused, taking a deep, stressed breathe. "She may even end up taking my house."

Larry frowned, leaning forwards slightly and clasping his hands on the desk. "Owen?"

Owen looked up, ashamed he had shown his uncertain stress in front of his coworker. If he seemed too stressed, he could lose the job….

"Is that why you're upset tonight?" Larry asked quietly.

Owen nodded in defeat. "My landlord came during the day. He told me I have a week to pay my bill, or I will be evicted."

Larry winced. "I'm sorry…."

"It's okay." Owen said, giving his shoulders a shrug. "I'll find a way to make it."

"How much is the bill?" Larry asked. He knew it was none of his business, but he felt that he needed to know more about Owen to understand him.

Owen hesitantly handed him the bill, which he had left in his pocket in the hopes that it may magically disappear and all would be well again. Larry sucked in a breath, and looked at Owen.

"That's a lot." He said, shocked at how far behind Owen seemed to be on his payments.

"I would have paid it already, but Sylvia," Owen said the woman's name as if it were poison. "Took that, too."

"I wish there was something I can do…"

"It's okay." Owen said, giving the other night guard a small smile. "What time is it?"

Larry looked down at his watch, and stood. "Sundown is right now."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Owen continued his steady pace through the hall, his senses stretched to the limit as he patrolled his assigned halls. The display cases holding the inanimate artifacts were a tempting distraction, but Owen stoned his curiosity back into submission, and made sure his eyes were fixed on the exhibits that passed him bye.

Luckily for him, his first night patrolling alone had been quiet and problem free. Most of the exhibits were downstairs, playing soccer on a makeshift court. Larry was coaching the whole thing, and had offered Owen to stay and watch. But Owen had politely declined. He was eager to prove himself a worthy night guardian, and had been happy to hear Larry tell him he could patrol the second floor.

Since there were so few exhibits about, Owen had been able to observe life at the museum without drawing attention to himself. He had seen some Viking women doing laundry in the bathroom, as well as a pair of intrepid explorers keen on making a map of the place. He had seen a few capuchin monkeys scamper fast, giving him nothing but an uninterested glance as they passed, chittering about something they obviously found interesting.

There had only been one hair raising encounter, when he ran into the local pride of lions. They had regarded him with hostile growls and a fake charge that sent the poor night guard screaming back the way he had come. Other than that, all been well.

Owen looked at one of the old antique clocks in the museums, one of the few still working. It was just past midnight, and Owen had pretty much explored every room on the top floor. Except, the one hall Larry had told him was under reconstruction. His legs were tired from walking, and he collapsed down on one of the wooden benches near the hall. His curiosity told him to walk in and confer with the tiny people he could see wandering about, but relented. It was not worth getting into trouble. Still, though, he was curious, and allowed himself a few moments to gaze into the hall and watch the bustle of the three dioramas.

As he watched the nightly commotions, his ears caught the sound of almost soundless footsteps below the bench. Owen froze, surprised at the sound. He had been sitting with his legs up on the bench, so he had not been spotted by whoever was walking beneath him. As quietly as possible, he moves onto his stomach, and hesitantly peaked beneath the wooden seat.

There, hiding in the shadow of the bench, was a tiny, blonde haired cowboy, seemingly oblivious to the presence of the giant man. Owen observed him, watching as he paced the length of the bench, his hands clasped behind his back and his head down. The tiny cowboy seemed to be deep in thought, and continued his pacing.

As he passed through a small beam of light, Owen caught his features. Coarse, blonde hair reached down to right about his neck, and he wore the typical cowboy garb. Nothing that significant, but Owen found himself even more intrigued after seeing his profile.

Perhaps it was the fact that such a small being was walking about and wanting to ask how, or maybe it was the strange feeling of familiarity he felt when he saw the cowboy. Either way, Owen decided to greet him.

"Hello there." Owen said softly.

The tiny cowboy jumped in surprise, giving a small yelp and whirling around to face the upside down head. Owen immediately regretted the sudden hello, and slowly maneuvered himself off of the bench, and onto the floor.

The tiny cowboy looked at him, his tiny body trembling as his blue eyes gazed at the face. Owen reached out with his hand, but the little cowboy shuffled back, pressing himself against the leg of the fence. Owen studied his features.

He looked afraid, and also slightly confused. Owen realised it was probably because of his sudden appearance. It seemed natural, for someone so small to be afraid of him. Owen also noted, with slight empathy, the dark bags under the cowboy's eyes, and the sad, lonely look in their depths.

"It's alright." Owen said gently, trying to sound nonthreatening.

He went to reach out again, but before he could, the tiny cowboy spoke.

"O-Ockie…?" He whispered, his voice hoarse and tired.

Owen frowned. "Pardon?" He asked, confused. Who was Ockie?

"Octavius...is...is that...you?" The cowboy asked, moving slowly out from under the bench.

Owen's frown deepened, and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry." He said, shrugging to add emphasis to his words. "I don't know anyone named 'Octavius'."

"But…" The cowboy stammered, his gaze confused.

Owen shook his head again, and scooted backwards as the tiny cowboy took a few paces towards him. They looked at each other for a moment, both unsure what to do. Owen looked into the saddened blue eyes, and felt a tearing sensation in his heart. There was something about the tiny cowboy that reminded him of someone he had once known, but could not recall. Owen had always been empathetic, but seeing the small cowboy so depressed and in pain hurt him somehow.

Owen reached out his hand, taking the tiny cowboy into his grasp. He held him up to eye level, where they looked at each for another long period of time, before the tiny cowboy's face lit up into a smile.

"Ockie! You came back!" He exclaimed loudly, startling Owen.

Owen was uneased by the cowboy's insistence that he was "Octavius" or "Ockie" or whatever.

"I'm not-" 

"Yes you are!" The cowboy yelled, cutting Owen off. There was a glimmer of joy in his eyes he spoke. "I knew you'd come back!"

Before Owen could find a way to reply, he felt a sudden clash of fear and happiness in his heart, and without realising it he shook his hand, accidentally making the cowboy slip off his palm, landing on the floor.

"Ow!" The cowboy yelped, landing with a small thud. "Ockie! Don't go! Please! Come back!"

Jed stared in shock at the back of his fleeing friend, grief and confusion ripping at his tiny heart. Why hadn't Octavius said anything back? Why did he say he wasn't Octavius? Why had he left him?

"Octavius!" He yelled again. But he had already turned the corner. "Ockie…" Jed whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. He reached out a tiny hand after him, but let it collapse into his lap in distraught grief. A single tear fell down his cheek, and he fought to suppress a sob. "Come back…"

But Octavius was gone, disappearing around the corner, leaving the tiny cowboy to his misery.


	6. Chapter 6

Owen speed walked as fast as he could away from the hall, his heart pounding as he went. What had just happened he did not know, but the tiny, seemingly innocent little cowboy had deeply stirred him. Owen couldn't explain the strange clash of emotions in his heart, and he couldn't understand why the cowboy had been so insistent.

Owen finally slowed down to a walk as he reached the stairs, casting a glance over his shoulder. He didn't see anyone around, and as he descended the first step, he sat down. His confusion had turned to something that felt like guilt. It churned his stomach as he felt the emotional burden of shame washed over him.

It had been evident that the little cowboy was suffering. And suffering was something Owen had never liked seeing. Even as a child, he understood the burdens and pains of suffering. Sure, he had never experienced suffering. But he had always been a man of empathetic nature and tendencies.

And the misery had been quite evident in the cowboy's eyes. Owen felt it wrong to just leave like he had. What if leaving instead of listening had hurt him more?

Owen contemplated whether or not to go back. Maybe he could find the cowboy, and get to the bottom of the weird mystery of who Octavius was. Maybe Owen could even help the little cowboy find who he was looking for.

Owen rose to his feet, intent on finding the cowboy again. He took a few steps back towards the exhibit, but before he could get far, he stopped. He recalled the uncomfortable, disturbing feeling he had gotten just a few minutes before. Did he really want to feel it again by his own choice? Maybe it was better to leave the cowboy alone. After all, did he really want to trouble himself with someone else's difficulties? He had his own problems to deal with.

As Owen turned away again, he felt the guilt almost at once, but decided to ignore it. He would ask Larry about the strange cowboy. Surely he would know. It would be better than subjecting himself to another confusing encounter.

Owen made his way downstairs, the sound of the soccer game reaching his ears as he descended lower. Everyone down below sounded so happy. Owen couldn't help but smile despite his misadventure upstairs as the ball was kicked along the floor.

One of the Huns kicked it towards him, and it landed at his feet. He looked around at the faces staring up at him. He smiled and kicked it back good naturedly.

None of them moved.

Owen frowned, and immediately felt his face reddening as every exhibit in the room looked in his direction, with various expressions on their faces. Some were judgemental, some were confused, and some were bitter. Owen desperately wanted to disappear at that point. He was about to leave back upstairs, when Larry spoke from where he sat atop the information desk.

"The Huns are still up by ten!" Larry yelled, waving his hands about at the two teams. "Are you boys going to stand for that?"

The other team, comprised of some of the Civil War soldiers, shook their heads quickly, and kicked the ball towards the Huns' goal. Immediately the Huns were on the defensive, and the exhibits' attention was turned back to the game.

Owen took his chance and quickly slipped past the crowd of exhibits, heading for the security office. He reached out to open the door, when he was stopped by a hand grasping his shoulder.

"Owen?"

Owen turned to look at his fellow night guard, noting the concerned frown on his face. Owen said nothing, and forced himself to smile.

"Hello, Larry." He managed to say, betraying little emotion.

However, being around so many exhibits with different personalities, Larry was a trained veteran when it came to detecting when something was wrong, what with having to play moderator and counselor for them all. He could tell something was upsetting Owen.

"Owen, what's the matter?" Larry asked, mild concern in his voice.

Owen wanted to tell him about the cowboy. He wanted answers. He wanted to know what was going on. But then he remembered what Larry had told him the night before, about not going into the miniature exhibit, which he had done. If Owen told him about the cowboy, he could lose his job for disobeying the rules. And if he lost his job….

"Nothing." Owen said quickly, turning away.

Larry sighed, and glanced behind them at the crowd of exhibits, who were now cheering as the Huns scored yet another goal. He then turned back to Owen, and gestured to the office door. Owen nodded halfheartedly, and slipped inside, Larry following.

Larry closed the door behind him, and pointed at the seat across from his desk chair. Owen sat down, gazing at his hands as he clasped them in his lap. He didn't want to tell Larry anything, and he hoped his discomfort wasn't too obvious.

Larry sat down. "Owen," He said quietly, staring at him.

Owen forced himself to lift his eyes, and meet those of the night guard's.

"I'm sorry. You'll have to forgive them. They're just...unused to you, that's all."

Owen gazed at the night guard in confusion for a moment, before he quickly realised what his coworker was talking about. Larry believed Owen's discomfort was due to how he had just been treated by the exhibits. He could let him believe that. It wasn't technically a lie, anyways.

"It's fine." Owen said, nodding. "I didn't expect them to like me."

"I don't think it's a matter of them not liking you." Larry said, repositioning himself so he was in a more comfortable position. "They're just not used to you. Don't worry; they'll get over it eventually."

"Yeah...I hope so."

Owen gave another unsure smile, before abruptly standing. He could feel the other night guard's eyes looking at him, almost peering into his soul, or so it felt. He needed an excuse to get out….

Owen cleared his throat awkwardly. "I uh, I've got to….e the restroom. Where is it?"

"Oh." Larry said, standing as well. He pointed out the door of the office. "Right across there."

Owen gave a quick nod of thanks, and rushed out of the office, ignoring the looks he received from the other exhibits.

As soon as Owen disappeared into the restroom, Larry stood, and left upstairs.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Larry stepped as quietly as he could into the hall, careful not startle the miniatures within. Ever since the whole new night guard business, the tiny people had been skittish of the larger giants that roamed the museum. Unfortunately, that included Larry. But once they saw who it was, they would settle and go back to their nightly lives.

Larry smiled as he stepped up to the Roman diorama. Everything seemed to be going okay. Rome had been greatly effected after the loss of its leader. The people seemed to have recovered, but none of the men were happy. Most of the citizens were unhappy too. But they somehow managed to carry on.

"Good evening, Larry."

Larry looked down to see Marcus, who had once been Octavius' second in command, and who was now in charge of Rome, standing near the edge of the diorama. Larry knelt down on his knees to be level with the man, and offered a smile of greeting.

"Hey, Marcus. How are you?"

"I have been better." Marcus said with a sigh. He glanced over his shoulder at the city, then back at Larry. "We have all been."

"Has everything been okay down here?" Larry asked, looking over the exhibit with his careful eyes.

"As okay as it can be." Marcus sighed once again, and he hung his head, allowing his shoulders to slump. "Octavius was so much better at leading than I. It is hard, Larry. I have not yet been able to master the role of leader. I cannot give the people the leadership they require." He sighed again, and raised his dark green eyes to meet Larry's. "I wish with everything I am that Octavius was still with us."

"I know." Larry said gently, bowing his head for a moment. "But he isn't, and we have to carry on. Okay?"

"I know." Marcus said, straightening up. "I suppose all we can do is hold on to his memory. I pray to the gods he is somewhere happier. Now. I would assume you are looking for Jedediah, are you not?"

Larry nodded quickly. "Yeah. Is he here?"

"I am afraid not." Marcus said, shaking his head. "But he did pass through here earlier. I think he went to his exhibit."

Larry's gaze moved to the Western exhibit, and he indeed noticed that Jed's tent flap had been moved. He turned once again to Marcus.

"Thanks."

"Larry,"

Larry paused, before turning around to look at the Roman once again.

Marcus looked at his feet for a moment and shuffled uncomfortably. "The men and I were wondering about who the new night guard is."

"New guard?" Larry asked, raising an eyebrow. "What about the new guard?"

"Nothing." Marcus said quickly. "We were just wondering if you had found one yet."

"I have." Larry said icily. "But he's flighty and not yet ready to meet you."

"Oh." Marcus said, frowning. He cleared his throat, and clasped his hands in front of him. "I see. Forgive me, Larry. I was curious."

Without another word to the Roman, Larry left to the Western exhibit. He hadn't meant to be so rude to Marcus. He too was still trying to cope with the loss of Octavius, just as everyone else was. And that was the reason Larry could not let Owen meet the miniatures. Not yet, at least. Marcus and the other Romans would have to live without knowing for a while. At the moment, the most important among the miniatures was Jedediah.

Larry casually approached the Western diorama, giving the cowboys gathered there a small wave. They waved back, all of them in just as solemn a mood as their Roman neighbors. Larry decided to make his questioning brief.

'Hey, guys. Has Jed been through here?" Larry asked.

"He's in his tent." One of the older cowboys said, pointing towards his leader's tent. "Said he'd be in there awhile. Wouldn't tell us why. He ain't been happy since….ya know."

Larry nodded, and gave his thanks to the old cowboy. He moved to the other side of the exhibit, and tapped the side of the tent gently. No response came. Larry felt concern rise in the pit of his stomach, fearing what the cowboy could have done.

Larry tapped again, and was relieved when Jed's tiny head popped out from the flaps. Larry smiled, but his happiness was short as he saw the despondent look on the cowboy's face.

"Jed?" Larry whispered gently, reaching his hand towards the tiny cowboy.

Jed looked up at the night guard with cloudy eyes, barely visible tear stains evident on his face. Larry it his lip, his heart breaking at seeing his tiny friend so upset.

"Jed, come out." Larry said, reaching for him again.

Jed didn't move. He just gazed at Larry, his bottom lip trembling as he struggled to contain his grief. After a moment of stillness, Jed finally stepped out of his tent. Larry gently picked him up. The little cowboy felt light in his palm, lighter than usual. And for the first time Larry saw the gaunt expression on his face. The blank, emotionless depths of his pale eyes. This Jed was far from the lively one Larry had known so many years ago.

It was the first time in a few months Larry had been able to hold the cowboy, and he felt a pang in his heart at his current state. It was clear that the emotional wounds of losing Octavius had never healed. But there was something more to his heartache than just loss.

"Jed?" Larry said again, holding him up eye level. "What's-"

"He was here…." Jed said in a choked voice, tiny, wet tears beginning to drip from his eyes. 'H-he w-was just here an'...an' he...h-he didn't...d-d-didn't…"

Larry held Jed close as he broke. He could feel the cowboy's despair as he sobbed, the burdens of pain and remorse too much for his tiny shoulders to bear. As Larry hugged the cowboy to his chest, he knew what must have happened. Jed must have seen Owen. It was the only explanation. It made sense, considering Owen's confusion a while earlier after coming back downstairs.

Larry sucked in a deep breath to still his own nerves. He would have to explain to Jed that Owen was not Octavius. He didn't know if Jed's little heart could take any more grief. But there was no avoiding it.

"Jed," Larry whispered gently, stroking the cowboy's blonde head with his finger. Jed looked up, his eyes wet and gleaming. Larry took another deep breath, and began to speak. "Jed, I'm sorry. That wasn't Octavius. That's… that's Owen. That's who you saw."

Jed sniffed, forcing himself to calm down before speaking. "B-But he….he looked so much like 'im…."

"I know." Larry whispered sadly. "But he's not him, Jed."

Jed closed his weary eyes, and took a breath as his shoulders trembled. His confusion only grew at Larry's explanation. But there was nothing else Larry could say to comfort him.

"I-I don't un-understand…wha...why'd he..." Jed choked, his eyes alight with confusion and anguish. "It's gotta be 'im I….I saw 'im an-"

"Jed," Larry said, a bit more forceful than he had meant to be. "He. Was. Not. Octavius. Okay? I'm sorry, but Octavius' never coming back, Jed. You gotta let go sooner or later."

For a moment Jed gaped at Larry, taken aback by what the night guard had said. Larry let out a gasp of shock at his words, and immediately regretted what he'd said.

"Jed, I'm sorr-"

"Put me down." Jed managed to say, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He looked at Larry with emotionless eyes. "I wanna go back in my tent."

Larry went to protest, but there was nothing else he could say. He slowly put Jed down, and watched in stunned silence as he hurried into his tent. Larry wanted to say more, wanted to apologize for his words, but he knew Jed wouldn't listen.

Larry turned away, wiping his own eyes as he heard strangled sobs come from Jed's tent. It took every fiber of Larry's being to keep himself from turning around. He had to let Jed come to terms on his own, as much as the night guard wanted to help him.

Before he realized what was happening, Larry's sadness turned to rage, and he barged out of the room. This was the final straw. He himself still had doubts about Owen. The other exhibits had tried to accept him, but it was obvious no one wanted him around. Jed's reaction was the final opinion Larry needed. If Jed was going to suffer at the unwitting hands of Owen, then Larry did not want him at the museum.

"Lawrence?"

Larry did not pause when he heard the familiar voice of Teddy. He did not even looked at the President. Larry ignored him and stormed on, his strides lengthening. He did not wish to speak to the President. He did not wish to speak to anyone except Owen.

"Lawrence?" Teddy asked again.

Larry glanced beside him to see Teddy keeping pace with him. Teddy's face shown with confusion, and he reached out to gra Larry's shoulder. Larry shrugged away and tried to walk fast.

"Lawrence!"

Larry finally stopped, sighing in annoyance. "What do you want, Teddy?" He asked impatiently.

Larry noticed the frown on the President's face, and gave a sigh of defeat as his shoulders fell limply.

"Lawrence? What's going on?" Teddy asked, deeply concerned. His concern then turned into worry as a horrendous thought occurred to him. "Was it Jedediah?"

Larry shook his head. "No...yes...sorta…"

"Lawrence." Teddy said again, grabbing Larry's shoulders. "Is Jedediah okay?"

"He is. He is." Larry said quickly. Teddy sighed with relief. "But he saw Owen. Thought he was Octavius. Now he's crying in his exhibit."

A great sadness shifted into Teddy's eyes, and he sighed softly. "Jedediah was bound to discover Owen sooner or later. I had hoped not this soon, so close to...you know."

Larry nodded. Very soon, Jed's birthday would be upon them. And the museum would be plunged into a somber, joyless night of grieving. And Jed would be the worst off, unable to ever feel joy on his day of birth ever again.

"Owen can't stay." Larry decided allowed. He saw the expression of surprise on Teddy's face, and spoke before the President could protest. "He can't stay here. Jed can't take it."

"Lawrence, Owen is a good man. He cannot help it if he looks so much like our dear lost Roman friend." Teddy said in defense. "Besides, he's not in a good spot. He needs this job, Lawrence. You can't make him leave, lad."

Indeed, Larry knew, Owen did need this job. Without it, there was no way Owen could pay off his rent. But Larry also knew he could not subject Jed to more pain. If he had to chose between Jed or Owen, he would, and had, chosen Jed.

"Teddy, he's hurting Jed more by being here. The other exhibits don't like him either."

"It's not the right thing to do, lad." Teddy said softly.

"So letting Jed suffer is okay?" Larry spat, anger rising in his voice.

Teddy opened his mouth to reply, when a chorus of scared and horrified yells erupted from downstairs. Larry exchanged a worried look with Teddy, and both men rushed over to the stair banister and gaped in shock as one of the rhinoceroses burst from its exhibit, charging into the crowd. And then one terrified voice rose above the others; Sacagawea's.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Owen jumped in surprise at the sounds of the screams, throwing open the door to the men's room. He had been hiding in there for a little over two hours. He'd been thinking about the little cowboy and trying to understand what could have happened to make him so upset. He hadn't found an answer, and had eventually fallen asleep. He had just woken up from his short slumber, only to find what appeared to be a rhino charging through the crowd of exhibits watching the game.

Owen ducked his head back inside the restroom in fear. He peeked out to watch the beast, feeling powerless to stop its run of terror. Owen was sure someone would stop the behemoth creature, but there was no one in sight. Where was Larry?

Owen looked around but could see his fellow night guard nowhere. It was then he heard an earsplitting cry, and noticed with a jolt of shock that the rhino had suddenly changed directions, charging down the Native American woman he had spoken to the night before.

Owen knew he had to act fast. Although the nimble, fleeing woman was keeping ahead of the beast, he knew she could not outrun it for long. He had to do something.

"Come on come on come on…." Owen said, trying to think of a way to stop the rhino before it caught up with her.

It then occurred to him that the chase was going to pass right in front of him. Owen took a deep breath and counted down from ten, waiting for the rhino's head to be in front of him. The Native woman tripped with a cry, and at the last second owen flung open the heavy door, slamming it into the rhino's head.

The jolt sent Owen sideways into one of the stalls, and sent the rhino sprawling onto its side. Owen quickly recovered his wits and hurriedly stepped out of the restroom. He stood panting, looking down at the rhino. The beast was once again rising to its feet, shaking its head. The crowd around them stood in suspenseful silence.

Owen moved in front of the Native woman, raising his hands in defense. The rhino stood fully, swayed on its feet, and fell heavily on its stomach. Owen's breath caught in his throat for a moment, fearing that he had hurt the rhino. If he had, Larry would surely fire him…

Owen moved forward to touch the rhino's head, and as soon as his palm touched the mighty horn on its nose the crowd of exhibits burst into cheers. Owen looked around, greatly confused. What was so great about what he'd done?

Before he could question himself further, he felt a presence behind him, and was mildly surprised as arms wrapped around him, hugging him. The crowd closed in about him as they cheered, even the Huns seeming happy.

When the arms released Owen, he turned to see the Native woman smiling at him.

"Thank you." She said, bowing slightly.

"It was, uh, no problem…" Owen stammered. He then turned to look at the fallen rhino. "Is um...is it okay?"

"What, him?" The Native woman gave Owen a soft smile and made a swatting motion with her hand. "He is fine. He is a rhinoceros, after all."

As she said this, the rhino once again rose to its feet, and gave a grunt as its tail swatted at something flying around it. One of the Huns suddenly reached out and grabbed the bug, crushing it in his hand. Owen winced.

"I...suppose he was bothered by the bug.' Owen said, shrugging.

"Sacagawea!"

'

The heads in the crowd turned as Larry and Teddy quickly ran over to the ones in the center. Teddy immediately grabbed Sacagawea in a tight embrace, rocking slightly as he hugged her.

"My dear, are you alright?" Teddy asked urgently, looking her all over for any sign of injury.

"I am fine." Sacagawea said softly, smiling. "Owen saved me."

Teddy turned to look at Owen, who stood awkwardly with his hands clasped behind his back. Before Owen could react, the President stepped forwards and embraced him as well.

"Thank you for saving her, lad." Teddy said, his voice sincere and meaningful.

"Again, it was nothing." Owen replied. He then pulled away from Teddy, and smiled. "Yeah."

"Owen?"

Owen turned to see Larry standing there as well, his arms crossed. Owen gulped, and looked from him to the rhino.

"I'm sorry about the rhino….I didn't see you….and I thought I should do something…...nobody else was…."

"Owen, you saved Sacagawea." Larry said, his frown turning into a smile. "You reacted exactly how a night guard should."

Owen couldn't help but smile, and for the first time that night he felt good. Until he remembered once again the tiny cowboy.

"Larry, I have to tell you something…." Owen began.

"I know." Larry said, raising his hand to stop Owen. "It's almost sunset. We'll talk then."


	7. Chapter 7

Owen followed Larry to the entrance of the small cafe, waiting patiently for him at the door as the night guard tipped the cab driver for the lift. It was around eight am, and the sun was already ascending above the horizon. The exhibits were well "asleep", as Larry had put it, and the two night guards had just gotten off work.

Owen had been planning on going home, but Larry had insisted they catch a bite to eat first. Owen had tried to decline, saying that Larry had done enough for him already and that he should get back to his apartment. But his coworker somehow managed to convince him otherwise.

It was not that Owen did not wish to spend time knowing his fellow night guard, his mind was just not in the present. He had been thinking of the cowboy most of the morning. After sunrise, he had wandered back to the Hall of Miniatures, hoping for another glimpse of the tiny man he had encountered. Owen did not understand why he was so anxious to see him. He just felt….when he saw him, he felt comforted, in a way. Like his own heart had been aching without him knowing, and now that it was being fixed, he felt the good pain of healing. He wondered if he would see him again the next night.

As Owen thought to himself about the recent events, Larry spoke with one of the waitresses, who led them to a table near a large window. Larry picked up one of the menus and looked it over. Owen, not wanting to give the night guard the wrong impression, reluctantly opened and scanned the menu.

There were a variety of choices, and almost everything looked appetizing. The only problem was, as the quality of food went up, so did the price. And Owen knew he could not afford to blow his money on breakfast. With a wistful glance over the buttermilk pancakes, and prepared to make his order as the waitress returned to their table.

"What would you like, sir?" The waitress asked, giving Larry a sweet smile.

Larry returned the smile, then gave his order. "I'd like the eggs and bacon, please. With some garlic bread toast. Oh, and could I get some coffee with that?"

"Of course. And what would you like, sir?"

Owen thought for a moment, his mind fighting to make a decision. He gave a sigh, and looked up at the waitress. "I would like a plain bagel and water, please."

The waitress frowned. 'Is that all, sir?"

"Yes." Owen replied, quickly handing her his menu.

After a few more seconds of staring, the waitress grabbed up the menus and left the table.

For a while, both men sat in silence. Larry's phone was buzzing with texts, so Owen was on his own. He looked around at the decor of the cafe. It was your typical, run of the mill quick dine-in sort of cafe. It had a front counter where the tabs were paid, and behind that a kitchen with a window sized opening for food to be handed through. There were only about ten small, white tables spread about the rest of the space, and. The walls of the cafe were painted a cheery blue, and there were various potted plants spotting the spare corners. It was a nice little place to relax in.

"I could have bought it for you." Larry said, breaking the silence.

"Huh?" Owen looked across the table at Larry quickly, his mind startled from his thoughts. He then registered what Larry had said, and quickly shook his head. "It's fine. You've helped me enough, thank you."

"It really wouldn't have been a problem-"

"No." Owen said again, casting the night guard a small glare.

Larry raised an eyebrow and gave Owen a questioning look, before shrugging and looking down at the table.

Owen winced inwardly, and scolded himself for the rude gesture. This was not the way to gain his coworker's trust. Even if he was having a hard time with life, it wasn't Larry's fault. Owen just needed to man up and deal with his own problems. Right after he apologised.

"I'm sorry." He said, bowing his head tiredly and giving it a small shake. "I'm just….you know…."

Larry nodded. "I see." He said gently. He then folded his hands and stared at Owen. "We need to talk, Owen. About that hall. The miniature hall."

Owen felt a trickle of sweat roll down his back, dragging an icy finger of dread. This was it. He was done for. Larry had found out about his little meeting, and now Owen would be fired. He would live alone in a cardboard box on the side of the street. No more chances. He had blown it.

"Look, I'm really sorry for going in there! I just was curious, you know? I needed to know what was in there, and there was this little cowboy who looked really sad and he said some things to me that I couldn't understand and I just wanted to help-"

"Whoa whoa, Owen, hey." Larry said quickly, holding out his hands to still the slurred speech from the other night guard. "I'm not mad. See?" Larry gestured to his face, which was not angry at all. "I'm just wondering why you went in there. What exactly happened, Owen?"

Owen hesitated, unsure what he should say.

"Owen." Larry said, much more firmly than he had spoken that night. "This is important, Owen. He's...the cowboy, his name's Jed, okay? Jedediah. He's not...he's not in a good spot right now. I just need to know what he said, okay? Please."

Still, Owen refused to speak. He wanted to. He really did. But part of him just would not let him tell the night guard. He was still confused, and he just could not seem to find the words to express that feeling.

"Owen,"

Owen looked up timidly, biting his lip. Larry sighed deeply, and rubbed his temples.

"You want to help him, don't you?" Larry asked.

Owen thought for a moment, before slowly nodding. Larry continued to speak.

"Then I need to know what he said. And how you feel."

"How I feel?" Owen said quizzically, frowning.

"Yes…" Larry said, trailing off awkwardly. He had realized his mistake, and quickly worked to cover it up. "How you feel about….about handling him. You know, your thoughts on maybe helping me figure out what might help him."

Owen nodded in understanding, although deep down he really did not understand what the other night guard was getting at.

"I...guess I would manage fine, but why? What's wrong with him?"

Larry opened his mouth to speak, but paused when the waitress returned with their food. Larry nodded a thanks. Owen did too, but didn't look up. After she was well out of earshot, Larry spoke.

"Jed wasn't always like this." He said, gazing out the window towards the museum, whose roof was just visible above some of the smaller buildings. "He used to be so happy all the time. Always laughing, always going on little adventures," Larry paused, and gave a small chuckle. "Always getting into trouble."

"He sounds like a handful." Owen commented.

Larry smiled again. "He was. Now, he's just not the same." Larry repositioned himself to lean slightly over the table. His face and voice were now serious. "He used to have a really good friend. His name was Octavius."

"Octavius?" Owen asked, frowning slightly. He then nodded. "Yes, he mentioned something about someone named Octavius." There was silence, before Owen's eyes widened. "Was he...was he referring to the man that statue was made after?"

Larry nodded slowly, letting his eyes drop to the tabletop. "He died a long time ago."

Owen was quiet, trying to piece together this new information. He was beginning to understand why the cowboy had seemed so depressed. And he also began to feel guilty.

"How did...how did he pass?" Owen asked, his voice solemn.

Larry sighed. "These exhibits they're….they're not unbreakable. The Tablet gives them life. But the Sun...they can't be outside in the Sun. They turn to dust if they are. Octavius….Octavius was outside."

"Oh."

"It was Jed's birthday. Teddy and I had been planning a party for him along with some of the other exhibits. We were all at the party. Octavius never showed up. None of us really thought anything of it. Then, when morning came, he wasn't there. The next night, Jed and I found him outside. It was too late to do anything…."

Owen could see the night guard was struggling to keep himself composed, and reached out a hand to pat his shoulder. Larry gave a quick nod of thanks before he shook his head .

"Jed hasn't been the same since. He doesn't smile. He doesn't laugh. He hardly even talks to us." There was another pause, before Larry gave another sigh. "For years they'd been inseparable. And then this happened, and just like that, he was gone."

Owen felt an immense wave of sadness at the story, and bowed his head, refusing to meet Larry's gaze. "I...I'm sorry I…" Owen fell silent. There was nothing he could say.

Larry took a deep breath to break the silence, and finally reached forward to pick up his coffee. "There's nothing you could have done. This was….erm….before your time. Anyways, Owen, there's something more. Something….really strange, I guess. He...Jed, seems to recognize you as Octavius."

"I noticed that." Owen said, swallowing a sip from his water cup. The water tasted a lot like tap water, but that fact was not of importance at the moment. "He called me Octavius, also Ockie, which I'm assuming was a nickname….?" Larry nodded, and Owen continued speaking. "He seemed to talk to me like I was Octavius. In fact he seemed….he seemed rather upset that I didn't recognize him." Owen paused, a worried look on his face. "Oh gods tell me I didn't hurt him."

Larry nodded sadly. "He was crying."

Owen stared down at his plate in guilt. So he had hurt the cowboy. He had never meant to. How was he supposed to have reacted? He had not intended to make the situation worse. And now, knowing that the little blonde cowboy was hurting inside, he felt even worse for how he had treated him.

In the silence between the two night guards, Owen listened to the lighthearted conversations of the people around him. He wondered for a moment how they could live their lives so well with the innocence of never knowing what happens to other people they never knew. He realized he was being philosophical, but he could not help it.

Luckily, Larry broke the silence with a soft chuckle. Owen looked at him with a puzzled expression, his fellow night guard's shoulders shaking as he struggled to contain his laughter.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Larry said, now able to still his laughter. "I was just thinking about how similar you and Octavius look. Are you related to him, by any chance?"

Owen shrugged. "I don't think so. It would be….interesting to be, I suppose, but I'm really not sure."

"Ah." Larry said, giving a faint nod. "I just figured it would make sense." He looked down at his food, and then back at Owen. "Should we just, take this all home?" He asked, wanting to get away from the dark atmosphere they had created. He could see Owen was also growing uncomfortable, and was relieved when he nodded his consent.

Larry called over the waitress, who gave them each a takeout box before taking Larry's change. Owen had a few spare coins on him, and insisted that he pay the tip. After that was done, the two headed for the door to leave.

"Oops, pardon me, ma'am." Owen said after bumping into a woman.

She was dressed in a waitress' uniform, and seemed to be running late for work. He gave her only a small glance as he quickly followed Larry. He missed the familiar, narrow, glaring blue eyes that gazed at his uniform with malice as he left, following Larry into the cool morning air.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Owen awoke after a short five hour slumber to the annoying blare of his alarm clock. Like almost all normal humans of the Earth, he loathed the damned device, and just barely kept himself from throwing it across the room. With a groggy yawn, he sat up and slammed his fist down on the alarm. Once it was quiet, he stretched and gave his back a quick scratch. It was time to begin another eventful night at his new job.

Owen slipped out of bed, trudging tiredly over to his closet and took out his uniform. Owen was a creature of habit, and prefered things neat and somewhat tidy. If he had the energy, he would iron out his uniform and store it properly every time he took it off. He had already decided to wash it at least twice a week, and avoid eating messy foods when he was wearing it.

Owen put on his uniform, and carefully inspected himself in front of his bedroom mirror. He did not look have bad, and he gave himself a nod of approval. He had given himself enough time for his daily grooming routine, and he ran a comb quickly through his hair to give it that professional, all business appearance. When he was finished, he gave himself a confident smile.

And then he saw it. A piece of food caught in his teeth. He gave an annoyed sigh and made his way into the bathroom. He rummaged around the medicine cabinet until he came upon the floss. He pulled it out and set the white container aside, grabbing up his toothbrush. He did a thorough job of brushing, before finishing off with a swish of mouthwash. When he was done, Owen once again smiled in the mirror. The food was gone, and he put away the unneeded floss.

Owen left the bathroom and made his way into the kitchen. He went into his practically bare fridge and grabbed an apple from the shelf. He needed to go grocery shopping again soon. Hopefully, his next paycheck would be enough. He would need to be very cost weary.

Which, he reminded himself as he heard a heavy drip beneath his sink, was something that would be very difficult in the next few months. When he had returned home after talking with Larry, he had discovered his sink had been leaking all night. He had cleaned up the mess, and called a repairman. That had taken him about three hours, since Owen had wanted it done as cheaply as possible, but had faced difficulties finding someone who was willing to do it for so little.

It was just another reminder to Owen of how tough he had it. Then again, he reminded himself, there were those who had it worse. His thoughts drifted to the little cowboy he had met in the museum.

He had been thinking on the meeting whilst trying to sleep, and he had discovered a way in which he could possibly cheer him up. But he just could not think of anything that might help him play out this idea. Maybe he would ask Larry or someone about some of the things the cowboy liked.

With that thought, Owen smiled, gathered up his evening bag, and left the apartment.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Larry looked out the window of his office, waiting somewhat impatiently for Owen to arrive. He knew he could not stay mad at Owen, considering his circumstances, but one would think someone who was so desperate to keep their job would at least make sure to arrive on time. He looked down at his watch again. It was already half an hour after sunset. If Owen was any later, Larry would have no choice but to write him up. Which, he really did not want to do.

With a sigh, Larry stood up from his chair and opened the office door. He then jumped slightly in surprise. He had been expecting to see the museum's exhibits just milling about. Instead, there was Owen, standing in the doorway, hand poised as if to knock on his door.

"Larry," He said with a smile. "I have an idea to cheer Jedediah up."


End file.
